yes, pencilled brows, smooth,
well-shaped forehead, arms like the lotus-stalk, and complexion like
the _champak_ flower, were rare among women. But had there been
present any critic of loveliness, he would have said there was a want
of sweetness in her beauty, while in her walk and in her movements
there was a masculine character.

The _sandal_ mark[5] on the _Boisnavi's_ nose was long and fine, her
hair was braided, she wore a _sari_ with a coloured border, and
carried a small tambourine in her hand. She wore brass bracelets, and
over them others made of black glass.

[Footnote 5: The caste mark, made with sandal-wood powder.]

One of the elder women addressed her saying, "Who are you?"

The _Boisnavi_ replied, "My name is Haridasi. Will the ladies like a
song?"

The cry, "Yes, yes! sing!" sounded on all sides from old and young.
Raising her tambourine, the _Boisnavi_ seated herself near the ladies,
where Kunda was teaching the little boy. Kunda was very fond of music;
on hearing that the _Boisnavi_ would sing she came nearer. Her pupil
seized the opportunity to snatch the sweetmeat from the other child's
hand, and eat it himself.

The _Boisnavi_ asking what she should sing, the listeners gave a
number of different orders. One called for the strains of _Govinda
Adhikari_, another _Gopale Ure_. She who was reading Dasu Rai's poem
desired to have it sung. Two or three asked for the old stories about
Krishna; they were divided as to whether they would hear about the
companions or about the separation. Some wanted to hear of his herding
the cows in his youth. One shameless girl called out, "If you do not
sing such and such a passage I will not listen." One mere child, by
way of teaching the _Boisnavi_, sang some nonsensical syllables. The
_Boisnavi_, listening to the different demands, gave a momentary
glance at Kunda, saying: "Have you no commands to give?"

Kunda, ashamed, bent her head smiling, but did not speak aloud; she
whispered in the ear of a companion, "Mention some hymn."

The companion said, "Kunda desires that you will sing a hymn." The
_Boisnavi_ then began a hymn. Kunda, seeing that the _Boisnavi_ had
neglected all other commands to obey hers, was much abashed. Haridasi,
striking gently on her tambourine as if in sport, recited in a gentle
voice some few notes like the murmuring of a bee in early spring, or a
bashful bride's first loving speech to her husband. Then suddenly she
produced from that i